Well guys its finally here; The Bloodbath! I figured I should probably just leave a short warning at the start regarding violence and minor gore, because well, It's the Bloodbath after all!

Lewis Natbotch, 15, D5

Our final meal, a breakfast fit for a king, is near impossible for me to swallow. It's not that the food is inedible, as usual it tastes as close to perfection as bacon scrolls and goats cheese stuffed tomatoes can. It's because I'm so nervous my mouth has gone dry, making the food feel like half dried glue, while anything that I manage to choke down reacts badly with my stomach, it's constant somersaults turning the food round and round and making me want to just throw it all up again.

Jane notices my struggle and looks at me sympathetically. "I know how you feel. This sucks." She says, spitting a mouthful of bacon into her napkin and grimacing. "You know in the old days they used to just throw people in volcanoes."

"I wonder why they don't just do that to us. It'd be way less expensive that's for sure." I say, trying as hard as I can not to vomit at the thought of my body disintegrating in a pool of lava, one more possible death to add to the many mental images that have been plaguing me for the last few days.

Jane looks down at her hands and sighs. "Watching other people physically suffer isn't enough anymore. It's the mental anguish we go through, that's the real selling point. Let's send a bunch of children into an arena and watch their sanity disappear along with their lives. What more could anyone want? It's just as fun watching someone claw their own face off as it is watching them doing it to someone else."

I can't hold it in after that. I throw up all over my plate, and then later, on the way to the hovercraft, I throw up again.

Jay Bird, 14, D10

The launch room is deadly cold, and even with my full length pants and light brown parka on it still gets through, making my skin crawl. I can't help but wonder whether they've set the temperature at this level to make us feel uncomfortable, or whether it's their subtle way of letting us know that while the outfit looks like it'll protect us from the elements, it's really just a clever ploy to make us suffer even more.

"How are you feeling?" My stylist asks. For a moment I think she actually might care a little, and I let a little fantasy play out in my mind where I let her hug me while I cry about how afraid I am. But when I look up to answer her, I can see that she doesn't give a damn what happens to me. I'm guessing she's just asking me how I feel because she's supposed to, she's just following the rules the Capitol have set out for her. So I push that thought out of my mind and try to look as fearless as I can.

"I feel fine thank you. Perfectly fine."

Demeter Ross, 17, D9

"Thirty Seconds."

This is it. I've got a full thirty seconds left to get myself into the tube, followed by another minute of waiting, eyeing off my opponents, waiting for the gong to sound and the horror to begin. I suppose there is some comfort in the fact that three of those opponents are for the time being, allies, but it's not enough to stop my knees my shaking, or my lip from trembling, or even a few traitorous tears falling onto my cheeks. The chance of me dying in the next five minutes is too high for any calming thought to soothe for fears.

One step, then another, and another, before I'm in the tube. The minute my whole body is inside it the glass swivels round, sealing me inside, my heavy breathing the only sound I'm able to hear. On the outside I can see my stylist looking at me with a faint, if somewhat encouraging smile on her face, then there is a loud sound, like air rushing through valves and pipes, and suddenly my pedestal is being lifted through the tube.

Brynn Halee, 17, D4

As I'm lifted up into the Arena, the first thing I feel is my heart hammering against my chest, pumping blood and hopefully some adrenaline through my veins at a speed I can't believe is even possible. Then I feel woozy, almost dizzy, like I've just spun around in circles a hundred times with my face pointed to the sky.

It's been drilled into us a thousand times over not to move too much once the platform clicks in place, because of the risk of falling off and blowing ourselves to pieces. I'd never been too worried about that happening to me, but as I soon as I see my surroundings I start to panic.

The Cornucopia is in a clearing flanked by short, stunted looking trees and bushes on one side, while the other side, the one that I myself am facing, is a flat rocky cliff face. One of many rocky cliff faces and tree covered precipices surrounding us actually. The part of me that's afraid of heights searches frantically for the ground below so I can judge just how high up we actually are, but after about one hundred metres all I can see is a thick blanket of fog that's swirling around the jagged edges, blocking anything below that level completely from my view.

If I thought my heart had been going fast before, it might as well have just morphed into a hummingbird.

Airick Marloth, 15, D8

Vivian and I had planned on just running straight for the hills and avoiding the Cornucopia entirely, but that's no longer an option for me. If I was to just head in the opposite direction from my starting point, I'd be running off a cliff. Vivian is closer to the tree line, if you can even call it that, so she can still follow the plan. I however have no other option.

20, 19, 18, 17, 16,

I've got to go in.

15, 14, 13, 12, 11,

I try to look for the best way to get to Viv without having to go through the centre of the Cornucopia, but when my eyes find the best route my heart stops. No more than six tributes away from me is Brock Emerald.

10, 9, 8,

To get to her I'll have to go past him. It's the only way, I'll just have to hope to god he doesn't see me. Please don't let him see me.

7, 6, 5, 4,

He turns his head, eyes locking onto me, and my blood turns cold as ice.

3, 2,

He's seen me. I'm going to have to be quick.

1.

The gong sounds, and as it does I leap off the platform and into total and utter chaos. I can see Brock ahead of me, running towards the Cornucopia, keeping a close eye on me as he does so. Heart pounding, I push myself harder, hoping that I can get past him before he gets a weapon and comes back for me.

But as luck would have it, there's a small spear sitting pretty no more than five metres from his starting place, which is the first thing he goes for.

I know he's a lot more comfortable wielding it in close combat than he is at throwing it, so I try my best to run wide around him, trying to keep as much distance between he and myself as I possibly can. Unfortunately I'm so busy watching where he is that I'm not keeping tabs on where I'm running, and I smack straight into the girl from 12. I brace myself, getting ready for a fight, but she's weaponless, just like me, and instead she just scrambles back onto her feet and runs. I go to do the same, but a strong arm pulls me back down, knocking the wind out of me.

"Told you was coming for you first District 8." Brock growls, raising the spear up in the air above me. Just as he goes to bring it swinging down I kick out at his shin with enough force to unsteady him, and then I kick again, sending him reeling backwards, giving me a split second to crawl out of his reach and get back on my feet.

I know he's right behind me and that I'm more or less doomed, but I can't just sit here and wait for that spear to pierce my skin. I've got to at least try and get away.

As I turn to make a run for the woods someone else slams into me hard and I fall to the ground, inhaling a mouthful of dirt as my face smacks into it. There is a loud thump beside me as whoever it was hits the ground, coughing and gasping for air, blood pouring out of their mouth and a spear stuck fast in their back. Bile rises up in my throat as I recognize the face.

It's Viv.

Her body shakes ever so slightly, and then she's gone, her once vibrant green eyes dulled forever.

Above her Brock is standing still as a statue, his face wrinkled up in absolute horror and disgust. Right now, in this moment, it's like I'm not even there anymore. All he can do is stare at the girl he just killed, a girl only a few days before he was trying to pick up. He must have been aiming at me and hit her instead, when she pushed me out of the way. Out of his way.

The thought of what she's just done is almost too much to bear.

I know I only have a few seconds left before he snaps back to attention, so as much as it pains me to leave her side, as much as it rips me to pieces, I get up and I run like hell, never once looking back, just in case Brock is already racing after me. It's not until I reach the tree line that I realize I could have taken that spear and turned it back on him.

Aria Mallow, 18, D1

Every hour spent training back home has led up to this moment, and I'm on fire. Even with the strange bout of nausea and dizziness that hit me as I entered the Arena I'm still in control of my body, just like I should be. I've been trained to deal with all kinds of pain. A little dizziness isn't going to stop me.

I'm the first to reach the Cornucopia and I waste no time searching for a set of knives. There are crates and crates of food and simple weapons lying everywhere inside the thing, but the best ones are right up the back, in the tail end, and that's where I'm headed. That's where I find them; a perfect set of five knives in their own little belt, sitting atop a crate of water. Without a moment's hesitation I pick the belt up and fasten it tightly around my waist, just as I hear a bunch of crates crashing down behind me.

I twist around to see Rose, a dagger clutched tightly in her hand, clawing wildly at the girl from 10, who's fallen on top of her, a thin line of blood leaking from a cut on her forehead. Even though Rose is the one with the weapon she's losing the fight, because Jay's got her pinned good and wedged in between a pair of the crates their mad brawl has just knocked over.

I run towards them, unsheathe one of my knives and plunge it into Jay's back. Neither she or Rose had seen me coming, and while Rose's eyes grow wide in shock Jay's whole body spasms, the muscles in her shoulder reacting violently to the knife in wedged between their blades, before Rose frees an arm and slashes her dagger clumsily across the girls throat. It's a move I know she instantly regrets as Jay crumples down on top of her, covering Rose's face, neck and shoulders in blood.

As Rose starts to scream and hyperventilate I shove Jay's lifeless body away from her and pull her to her feet.

"Shut up damn it. You wanna stay alive Rose?"

"Y-yes." She stutters, wiping a hand across her cheek to smear away some of the blood.

"Then pull yourself together."

Russell Darcy, 14, D6

I'm too smart to take my chances and go for one of the better items in the centre of the Cornucopia. I know all too well I'd never make it back out of their alive. Instead I race towards a small purple and black backpack on the ground a few metres in front of me and snatch it up. It's probably no bigger than a loaf of bread, but it's heavy for its size, and that can't be a bad thing in my books.

As I hoist it across my shoulder I can already see Katie disappearing into the shrubbery to the left of me; a mesh bag full of apples swinging wildly in her hand as she runs. I set off after her, my ears ringing from all the screaming and shouting going on around me, pumping my legs faster than I ever have before.

Just as I reach the tree line Gray atrium does as well, a bladder full of water and a packet of dried fruit clutched in his hands. It must have been hard work getting hold of those items, because the sleeve on his right arm has been slashed open, the blood seeping through it making the green fabric turn brown. We stare at each other for a split second, sizing our prizes up, seeing whether we want to risk our lives for them. Gray holds my gaze for a few agonizing seconds, before taking me completely by surprise and holding his hands up in the air.

"I don't want to fight you." He says. " Allies?"

I have only a few seconds to decide to trust him before someone sees us standing like a pair of Looneys on the edge and comes to finish us off. The deciding factor is that if I were to say no, I'd probably have to fight him instead and right now I'm just not up to that.

"Alright, this way." I resolve, pointing in the direction I saw Katie disappear in and starting to run. Gray follows, and the two of us leave the screaming and snarling of the bloodbath behind, each with one less person out here trying to kill us.

Grant Green, 13, D4

When Jane and I had spoken about our bloodbath strategy, she'd been dead set against going in for supplies, saying it was far too dangerous. Eager to impress her I'd disagreed, saying I'd go in to gather what we needed and meet her afterwards. Right now, as I'm dodging and darting through the most frightening experience of my whole life, I wish I'd just listened to her and avoided it all.

Despite the fact that I've kept my distance from the other Careers throughout our training, the other tributes seem reluctant to challenge me, so I make it almost half way in and pick up a large, dirty green duffel bag. There's a gap towards the west where no one seems to be fighting, so I choose that as an escape route.

Everything goes well at first, but when I'm just about to pass the platforms a fist comes flying out of nowhere, connecting with my nose with enough force to send me crashing into the ground.

Luke stands above me, his eyes wide with terror, before leaning down to punch me again. I deflect the hit with one arm and send the palm of my hand up against his nose, feeling it crack. He screams and goes to punch me again, this time connecting with my jaw, sending me reeling. I reach out again to block his next move, but he's too strong for me. Both of his hands wrap tightly around my throat and he literally starts squeezing the life out of me.

Just as the world starts to black out, someone jumps on his back like a monkey and slams something that -with my woozy vision- looks a lot like a frying pan into his head, stunning him, before slamming it into him again, and then again and again. He slumps to the side, his body lifeless and his head sticky with blood.

I'm waiting for his attacker to finish me off, but instead a hand grips tightly around my wrist and pulls me to my feet. As my eyesight starts to return I realize that the person helping me up is none other than Brynn. She doesn't look well; her face is so pale I'm afraid she'll throw up on me, and she's really unsteady on her feet.

"Get out of here Grant." She says, pushing me, before turning back to the bloodbath, dropping what I know can see is a club as she goes. For the briefest second I watch her go, thankful for her saving my life, before hoisting the duffel over my shoulder and running for the trees.

Modest Kline, 14, D12

I've only just managed to pick up a pack and a small weapon when I hear Cole screaming. I can't fathom how I managed to identify it through all the other foul noises flooding my ear drums, but it pushes right through, sending chills all the way down my spine and forcing me into panic mode. Only a moment ago he was behind me, and now I can't find him anywhere.

He screams again, this time not out of fear, but in pain, the kind of guttural sound an animal makes when it's mortally wounded. This time my ears work with my eyes to find him, and when I do my heart breaks. He's lying on the ground at Jarred Emery's feet, a thin spear stuck deep into his gut, while he tries desperately to claw it out with his hands, gasping in agony with each failed attempt.

Jarred reveals another spear, holding it up and getting ready to strike him again. Even though Cole's still alive, I know there is nothing I can do for him anymore, so with tears pouring down my face, I turn my back and make my way out of all this horror.

I get no more than six steps and he screams again, this time in terror, before its cut short. Just like his life.

Allius Winters, 17, D3

In an unsurprising act of cruelty the Gamemakers positioned Flinch and I on opposing ends of the Cornucopia, forcing us to make our way through it to get to each other.

I find him in the centre, slashing out with a sickle at the boy from 5. He slices into the back of the kids parka and hits the skin, drawing blood, but the boy gets up and runs for it, sprinting away without a single item in his hand.

"Flinch!" I call out, bring his attention towards me, and the look of relief I find in his eyes is almost too adorable to be found in a place like this.

He rushes towards me and grips onto one of my hands tightly. "Run."

He's faster than me, he always has been, and I struggle to keep up. If it wasn't for him dragging me along I'd probably lose him again, and the thought of being left alone here is enough to make me pick up the pace. We're both running so fast it's almost like we're flying.

And then suddenly I am flying, or rather being lifted into the air, and I lose my hold on Flint's hand.

"Flinch!" I scream out, kicking my legs behind me, trying to get them to come into contact with my assailant, with no success. As Flint turns around I'm pulled up against the tributes chest, and I can feel his breathe, hot and heavy, against my cheek. Just the slightest tilt of my neck, and I can see who has hold of me.

It's Jarred Emery.

"Allius!" Flint screams starting to run back towards me, but as he does so Jarred presses a knife against my throat, and I know that it's already over. The blade slices across my skin, and all the light disappears, leaving me to fade into darkness.

Flint Lightwood, 17, D3

It's over so quick I can't even process it. One second she was screaming out at me, struggling in that brutal looking boy's arms, and then she was limp as a ragdoll. None of it makes sense, it can't make sense. She can't be dead.

Except she is.

When he drops her body onto the ground, as though she's nothing, that's when it starts to hurt. That's when the anger starts to boil up inside me. The scream that comes out of my mouth is less than human, and the tears that come are so heavy they blur my vision.

He doesn't even look at me, in fact, I'm not even sure he knows I'm here, or that I was holding her hand before he grabbed hold of her. He just runs back to the battle, leaving her body to bleed out on the dusty earth. More than anything I want to go to her, to just cradle her body in my arms until the hovercraft comes to take her away, but I know I can't, I know I'd just wind up dying beside her, and even though I'd give anything to be dead right now, I know she wouldn't want that. She'd want me to at least try. So seeing as I've already failed her in the biggest way I possibly can, I'm not going to purposely disappoint her.

I take one last look before leaving her behind, my heart breaking with each and every step.

Cyra Hale, 15, D7

By what I can only assume is dumb luck, myself and the other three in our little alliance are still alive five minutes into the games. Rye's been lying down near the dead kid from 12 for about three minutes now, covered in his blood, pretending to be dead, while the rest of us gather supplies. She's hoping that once the carnage is over the Careers will clear out so the hovercrafts can collect the bodies, giving her a chance to access some of the better weapons, while also making our little alliance look disjointed.

This little part of her grand plan –of which not all information is yet available to the rest of us- serves the purpose of convincing the Careers that our alliance has crumbled to pieces, and that we'll all be going it on our own now that we've lost our 'fearless' leader. Demeter and Herc even had a mock scuffle over a pack at the start, something I found to be a bit risky. Apparently this is all necessary for our little troupe to be as 'sneaky as possible'.

Right now I don't feel very sneaky. I feel terrified. I can hardly even breathe, and everything I'm carrying feels too heavy.

Hercules howls, signalling that it's time for us to clear out, and we each make our separate ways into the woods. I'd felt dizzy from the start, but now I feel even worse; I can barely even concentrate on where I'm putting my feet. It's a miracle that I manage to get to the trees without anyone trying to kill me.

The ground around the trees is rocky and more than a little slippery, and once you get past the thicker bushland it becomes harder to find a place to hide. Every now and again I find myself walking too close to the edge of this particular ledge and almost fall down into the churning mass of fog below. Something about that fog makes feel uncomfortable, and I find myself distancing myself further away from it than I'd intended.

I've been struggling along for a good five minutes before Demeter and Herc find me. Both of them are huffing and puffing as they come to a stop.

"Thank god we got out of there." Demeter mutters, her voice all shaky. She looks up at me as though she's going to say something more, but she stops, instead staring at me, her face twisted together in horror.

"What?" I wheeze, feeling drool pour out of my mouth as I speak. I reach up instantly to wipe it off and as I bring my hand back down again I realize what she's staring at.

It wasn't drool. It was blood. A lot of blood.

What I'd put down to just being back pain from carrying a heavy pack suddenly gets worse, the pain shooting through me with such intensity that I reach around on reflex, and that's when I find it. A knife, stuck deep into the soft fleshy part that my skeleton can't protect. A wave of nausea hits me and I fall hard, hitting the ground, my breathing so loud and desperate now that I can't believe I didn't notice it was a warning sign as I was running through the bloodbath before.

Herc rushes over towards me, kneeling down to pick up my head and resting it in his lap. "How didn't you know that was there?" He asks, his eyes darting back and forth in confusion. "How did you even make it this far from the Cornucopia?"

"Adrenaline." Demeter answers for me, my own attempt to answer the question coming out as a faint echo only seconds after. She kneels down beside us and hides her face in her hands, whispering curse words as fat little tears run through the gaps between her fingers. "We were so close to getting out of this fine. All of us. We were so close."

I don't even have enough energy to reply; it's like I used up all my energy trying to get away from the carnage, and now it's fading away faster than I can believe.

It hits me that I had just one more sleep left before I turned sixteen. Last year I spent the day before my birthday in my fort, the one I'd crafted so carefully, laughing and joking with my sister and best friend. This year I'm dying in an Arena, which has also been crafted with care, but instead of fun it's been designed for killing, and in the place of my sister and Rai is a boy I hardly know and a girl who he knows better.

The almost ironic nature of these two circumstances isn't lost on me as my wheezing breath comes to a stop.

Tributes Killed this Chapter:

24- Vivian May, aged Sixteen, District 8

23- Jay Bird, aged fourteen, District 10

22- Luke Pallas, aged seventeen, District 7

21- Cole Mackenzie, aged fourteen, District 12

20- Allius Winters, aged seventeen, District 3

19- Cyra Hale, aged fifteen, District 7

Well there you have it guys, that's the bloodbath over and done with!

It was so hard killing those who died, as I've become attached to all the tributes and struggled to figure out who was going to be bowing out in the bloodbath. For those of you whose tributes have gone on to join the fallen, I hope I managed to do them justice.

See you guys next chapter!